


I Am Weary (Let Me Rest)

by Dragomir



Series: Tales from the Garrison [1]
Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Could Be Canon, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Exhaustion, Friendship, Gen, Mental Exhaustion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-04
Updated: 2015-02-04
Packaged: 2018-03-10 10:43:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3287315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragomir/pseuds/Dragomir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Apprentice Artificer Andren has a moment of introspection with a very tired Commander.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Am Weary (Let Me Rest)

**Author's Note:**

> Written in a moment or two after finishing the Garrison campaign achievement

"Commander, you do not celebrate with us?" Andren asked, leaning against the bar and smiling in what he hoped _wasn't_ a flirtatious manner. With the commander, who knew? They weren't exactly the most approachable person. Steely eyes flickered up to his face then back to the half-empty mug of beer on the bar top.

"No."

"Why?" Andren was honestly curious. Most of the other Alliance soldiers here were getting incredibly drunk and throwing what could only be described as a barely-contained riot, although _they_ called it a party. Felling an entire army, a colossus, and one of the Warlords of Draenor all in one day _was_ cause for a celebration… Wasn't it?

The commander smirked, one corner of their mouth quirking up. If not for the scars, it might have been described as easy-going, handsome, pretty, or whatever adjective one wanted to apply to the mysterious commander. Andren waited for an answer, forearm resting on the inn's bar top.

"Andren, the last time I celebrated the downfall of a powerful foe…" The commander ran a finger around the edge of their mug and sighed. "The last time I celebrated someone's downfall, the bastard ended up escaping and came here to start another war."

Andren nodded. That answer made sense. "A protection against further bad luck?" he ventured. It wasn't the strangest thing a war-leader could do to prevent bad luck befalling their company. Certainly wasn't the strangest thing _he'd_ ever heard of, and he was the one who'd decided to sink crystals into the earth to power a defensive barrier around Elodor…

"No."

Andren raised an eyebrow. "No?"

The commander shook their head, another half-smirk half-frown in place. "I'm tired, Andren. Up here." They tapped their forehead with their thumb, eyes shadowing. "That party out there? Those kids are all green. They don't know what war is. They think that just because we won, and with so few casualties… They just don't know. I'm tired, Andren. When is this going to stop?"

"…Would you like me to stay a while?" Andren asked softly, sitting down on a stool that creaked dangerously under his weight.

"If it's no trouble," the commander whispered, suddenly seeming far older than their appearance would suggest. "I'm just tired, Andren."

"I will guard your rest, commander," Andren promised, gently placing a hand on the commander's shoulder. "You may rest."

**Author's Note:**

> So, what did you think? Good? Bad? Think the Commander needs a hug and a therapist? Drop a line and let me know.


End file.
